Similar to my prior post about our cold tap, our washing machine is a function bestowed upon our humble abode that has gone unused for a long time. In fact, the whole time we've lived here.
Once, I piled my clothes inside its mouth and bespeckled them with washing powder, twisted the taps and turned around to see our neighbour, who explained that it belonged to him and that it no longer works. Retreating in neighbourly apology I took my half-slimed (why does the washing powder makes it slimy?) garments in my arms and climbed the stairs to the bathtub, the vessel where my washing has been washed ever since.
Today one of my flatmates called the real estate agent to enquire about having another cold tap installed in the communal laundry so that we can get a machine put in. She was informed that the machine there was put in by the landlord for us to use, and is not made available to the flat downstairs (inhabited by the man who had let me know "owns" the device).
Well, lovely big old universe has done it again! The neighbours door was seen being rapped upon and his face was witnessed by the real estate agent... And just like that, I can enjoy the wonderful commodity of an electronically powered washing appliance and stop spending Saturday mornings scratching the crotch of my underpants with sunshine soap.
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